


The Stilinski-Martin Guide To Dating The Hales

by demonicweirdo



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Humor, Friends With Benefits, Hale Family Feels, M/M, Misunderstandings, Secret Relationship, Sheriff Stilinski is a Good Parent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-11
Updated: 2014-12-11
Packaged: 2018-02-28 23:52:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2751800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonicweirdo/pseuds/demonicweirdo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I don't know Lydia... Maybe you should try it out. You guys kinda balance each other.” Stiles shrugged. “Opposites attract.”<br/>“What, like you and Derek balance each other?” Lydia shot back. “If... If Cora wants to go out with me, fine, I'll do it. But not until Derek gets his head out of his ass and takes you on a date.”</p><p>The one where everyone mistakenly assumes that no-strings-attached-sex would work, and Derek should not be trusted with his own love life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Stilinski-Martin Guide To Dating The Hales

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when I try to write crack, it gets mixed up in feelings and serious stuff. Okay, there are mentions of sex, of a lot of sex, kinda, but no actual sex. And my first time trying femslash. Because the character of Lydia Martin prompted my sexual identity crisis.  
> So this is post-3b, and I'm sorry there's barely any mention of Allison, but this was meant to be a light-hearted and funny fic.  
> And I think, expecting everyone to be bisexual is a little strange, so Derek and Lydia are bi, Stiles and Cora are gay.

Lydia loved surprises, mainly because they were so rare for her. Her feelings on having Cora Hale standing at her doorstep were ambiguous, however.

The girl was hot, Lydia had noticed _that_ straight away. She wasn't sure if Cora was very smart, although Lydia had experience with below-average intellect. But Cora wore tight jeans like a second skin, and paired with a brooding scowl, it was enough to spark Lydia's interest. Oh, and the whole “I-let-my-siblings-think-I-was-dead-for-eight-years” thing.

And now here she was, after six months, after all musings of her had died down to non-existence in Lydia's mind, with a thoughtful look on her face.

“What do you want?” Lydia snapped, stepping out and closing the door behind her.

Cora tilted her head for a moment, looking too damn contemplative for Lydia's liking, before nodding to herself and surging forward.

Lydia had quite a few surprise kisses over the years, and she hated them. But as soon as Cora's insistent lips pushed against hers, Lydia fought back instinctively, her arms coming up to tangle in Cora's hair as she changed the angle and deepened the kiss.

Cora pulled away slowly, a smirk on her face. “I knew that would be good.”

Lydia ignored the tingling in her lips and glared at the werewolf. “What the hell was that?”

Cora raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were some kind of genius,” she snarked. “ _That_ was a proposition.”

“What made you think I'd want you, sweetheart?” Lydia bit back.

Cora smiled, and really, it was impressive. If she smiled more often, she might be able to get rid of her sexual frustration  _without_ assaulting other teenage girls. “I'm a werewolf, Lydia. I could smell your arousal last time I was here. It would be a mutually-beneficial arrangement,” Cora said, shrugging. “You said you could handle a werewolf.”

Lydia leaned back against the door, regarding Cora with new eyes. “You want a friends-with-benefits deal?”

Cora tilted her head to the side, considering the question. “Without the friends.”

Lydia never made rash decisions. She always thought things through thoroughly before deciding something. This subject, however, didn't need much thinking through. “Okay.”

Cora grinned, sending shivers down Lydia's spine (the good kind of shivers), looking like the predator Lydia knew she was. Lydia opened the door and pulled the werewolf inside with her.

* * *

Stiles never meant to have a secret affair with Derek, but he couldn't say he regretted it.

He wasn't oblivious to the sexual tension between them, the too-long stares and the pigtail-pulling. It wasn't a Scott-and-Allison situation by far, but there was chemistry, dammit.

It all came to a head after the nogitsune had crumbled. Stiles was exhausted, and while he was entertaining a phobia of sleep, he figured he could handle the nightmares in favour of being unconscious and charging his dead batteries.

He had found Derek on his bed, black smudges on his shirt, his expression desperate and concerned. Intense, when his eyes found Stiles' and held them. Stiles had held back hysterical laughter, because  _of course_ this was how they sorted their shit out. A life or death situation, both of them fearing for the other's life, tragedy heavy in the air between them. A fucking drama-movie-worthy revelation of feelings.

Needless to say, Stiles hadn't gotten much sleep that night.

Even though Derek wasn't really his  _boyfriend_ , he was a good one. He made sure Stiles was well-rested, even stayed overnight for a while, when the nightmares were really bad. Reminded him to eat when he studied too much, texted him back, listened to his troubles and offered a few of his own in return, so Stiles wouldn't feel too whiny and needy. They still fought and snarked and riled each other up, but now they had a creative outlet for the tension.

“Cora's coming home,” Derek murmured in Stiles' ear one night, after a round of sex prompted by Stiles teasing Derek about wearing glasses like an old man (Derek had proceeded to exercise his extensive life experience – in comparison to Stiles' – by giving him an award-winning blowjob).

“Mhhmmm,” Stiles groaned into Derek's forearm. He was too tired to _think_.

“Stiles,” Derek said, squeezing him a little. “We can't have sex here if she's living here.”

Stiles groaned again, louder, and nipped at Derek's arm. “But your bed is sturdier. We almost broke mine last time.”

Derek breathed out a laugh, which ruffled Stiles' hair. “My bad.” He sounded way too smug for Stiles' liking.

“You're a dick,” Stiles muttered. “And your sister's a cockblock.”

“Just go to sleep, Stiles,” Derek sighed.

Stiles did, and when they woke up in the morning, they both came to the mutual conclusion that if they broke Stiles' bed, Stiles would visit Derek in prison when the sheriff found out why he had to buy his underage son a new one.

* * *

Stiles was acting weird, and it was annoying.

Normally (though there was nothing  _normal_ about it), if someone was possessed by an evil fox demon, they'd be pretty freaked out afterwards. They'd be different.

But Lydia was smart enough to recognise the difference between acting weird because of some strange/tragic supernatural occurrence, and acting weird because you have a secret booty-call.

Lydia noticed the discreet smiles when Stiles checked his phone, the zipped-up hoodies that covered most of his neck, the sheer cockiness a guy emanated when he was having sex on a regular basis. And the lying, because Stiles was good at lying, sure, but Lydia was good at finding people's tells, and Stiles' gaze always flitted downwards briefly when he lied.

But it wasn't Lydia's business, and Stiles was happy, so she didn't pry. For a week.

“Are you dating that Malia girl?” Lydia asked him as they walked to English together.

Stiles' eyes widened and he shook his head slowly. “No. No, I am not. That's weird, why would you ask that?”

Lydia narrowed her eyes, but Stiles wasn't lying. He was confused, but he wasn't lying. “Because you've been getting some, Stiles, and you're hiding it from everyone. Who is she?”

Stiles jerked away from her, almost dropping his books, and accidently shouldered a freshman, who stammered an apology before turning into another corridor abruptly. “I... What? Have you _seen_ me, Lydia? If I was, uh, having sex, I'd brag about it. People aren't exactly lining up for this, you know,” he replied, gesturing to the whole of him.

Lydia rolled her eyes. “Stiles, five girls in the last three days have attempted to ask you out, and you refused every single one of them. Self-deprecating is not a good look on anyone, even less so when it's forced.” The turned into the classroom and sat next to each other.

Stiles' cheeks were pink, and his mouth was open in shock, before it closed with a snap and he narrowed his eyes at her. “You're one to talk, Lydia. You have a hickey on your neck, and the talk of the town is that you haven't paid any notice to the multiple declarations of love you've gotten since the start of the year.”

Lydia silently cursed werewolves and their neck fetishes. And then something clicked. She reached towards Stiles and pulled his collar down, to expose two fresh bruises decorating his throat.

Stiles flailed and batted her hands away, pulling his hoodie back up and giving her a glare.

It had to be Malia. Lydia didn't miss how Malia would stare at Stiles, how she'd smile at him, how she got possessive around him whenever Lydia – or any other girl, for that matter – talked to him.

Because the only other female were-creature with a penchant for hickeys was Cora, who was strictly into partners of the female persuasion.

Unfortunately, before Lydia could think on the subject further, Mr Yukimura walked in and the class fell silent.

* * *

“You-” Stiles gasped out as Derek's mouth attacked his neck, “have to _stop_ that. L-Lydia noticed them, Derek. J-Just... _stop_.” He pushed Derek face away from his throat and glared at him. “You can't just attack my neck and expect people to not notice,” he said, breathless.

Derek ignored him and went for his mouth instead, and _yeah_ , Stiles didn't remember what he was trying to say.

His father had the day shift, so that meant no sex for a week, and Stiles had finally broken. He found Derek waiting for him outside the loft, with a smirk that turned hungry as soon as Stiles neared. And yeah, they were making out in the elevator.

The doors opened and Stiles couldn't remember how to use his legs, so Derek lifted him up. Stiles wrapped his legs around Derek's waist, which gave him a better angle to control the depth of their kiss. If you could call it a kiss – it was more like Stiles trying to swallow Derek's tongue, which shouldn't have been as sexy as it felt, but hey, Stiles was a healthy teenage boy with _urges_ , he found anything sexy.

* * *

“Derek left,” Cora mumbled into Lydia's neck, before sucking another bruise there. “He thinks I'm looking for a job. We have to be quick.”

Lydia stopped her with two hands at her shoulders, pushing her away gently. “I'm not some cheap floozy, Cora.”

Cora made an impatient noise and her hands slid down to Lydia's ass, lifting her up onto the table as their lips met for another kiss.

Cora went back to open-mouthed kisses on Lydia's neck, and Lydia closed her eyes and sighed. She knew, from Aiden, that it was a scent-thing. And really, she couldn't deny Cora the pleasure when it was mutual.

And then the loft door slid open, and Lydia opened her eyes. Cora didn't seem to notice, but Lydia wasn't as far gone in the frenzy.

And her eyes widened in shock when she saw Stiles, his legs wrapped around the waist of _Derek Hale_ , mirroring Cora by kissing down Derek's neck like she was kissing down Lydia's. And then Cora stiffened, and Derek's eyes shot open and met Lydia's, and Stiles was dropped unceremoniously to the floor.

_This_ was a surprise that Lydia had ambiguous feelings about, as well.

* * *

Stiles felt Derek's hands slip away from his butt, and, unfortunately, it was the only thing holding him up. He fell to the floor with a surprised yelp, and glared up at Derek. Who was looking across the room with a confused look to his face.

Stiles twisted around, expecting to see a number of frightful things. Oni, Deucalion, a fucking  _unicorn_ , anything. Not Lydia, sitting on the table, her legs around Cora, even as the werewolf turned around slowly.

Lydia met his eyes with comical surprise, and Stiles fought down a hysterical laugh, because the way the Hales looked... Like the tiniest thing would set them both off on homicidal rampages. His father didn't need the stress of so many unsolved murders.

“Stilinski?” Cora asked, her eyebrows raised even as she wiped Lydia's lipstick from her mouth.

Derek narrowed his eyes at her. “Lydia?” he said, and  _wow_ , that was a lot of judgement in his tone when talking about the girl Stiles thought himself in love with for ten years.

Lydia glared at Derek, and pushed Cora away so she could stand up, smoothing out her skirt. “Stiles, get off the floor,” she snapped.

Stiles flailed a little, but he managed to get to his feet smoothly. “You... You and  _Cora_ ? Cora  _Hale_ ? You – Oh my god, you've been having sex with Cora Hale,” Stiles stammered out.

Derek pinched his brow and huffed out a breath. “Shut up,” he growled.

Stiles spun around and jabbed a finger in his chest. “ _You_ told me Cora was job hunting! You texted me, and she's not job hunting, she's here with  _Lydia_ .”

Derek's expression was pained, and Stiles figured he should shut up about his little sister, who he thought had died before she hit puberty, having sex.

“Stiles,” Cora gritted out. “You're having sex with _Stiles_.”

Lydia and Stiles gave her twin glares. “Maybe you should try saying that again with less judgement,” Stiles retorted, crossing his arms.

Cora shot him a withering look. “You know the average lifespan of everyone Derek's ever dated?”

Lydia raised her eyebrows as Derek's drew together. “Ouch. Low blow, Cor.”

“We're not dating,” Derek replied, his tone clipped.

Stiles clutched at his chest in mock hurt. “Oh how you wound me. Of course we are, asshole.”

Derek shook his head. “Sneaking around behind your father's back is not a good foundation for a relationship, Stiles.”

Stiles saw right through the bullshit, because post-coital cuddling and the fact that the majority of his incoming text messages were from Derek begged to differ. Sneaking around was  _excellent_ for relationships, Stiles could make a powerpoint presentation on the merits of sneaking around. He turned to Lydia. “Are you and Cora dating?”

“No,” Lydia replied, just as Cora opened her mouth.

Stiles grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the loft, with a snappy “ _Goodbye_ ,” to the Hale siblings, who had gone back to glaring at each other.

Once they were out of the building and in the jeep, Lydia touched his arm. “Are you okay?”

Stiles shook his head and started the jeep up. “I am withholding sex from that man until he gets his head out of his ass,” he muttered.

Lydia gave him a concerned look. “Are you sure... that he wants more than sex?”

Stiles kept his eyes on the road as he answered. “He pushes people away. It got worse after Jennifer, for obvious reasons, but some tiny, stupid part of him believes that Paige, Kate, Jennifer... they're his fault. Sometimes he looks at me, and I can tell he doesn't want the same thing to happen. Which is ridiculous, right? I already had my time as an evil, manipulative mastermind, and I'm not going to die anytime soon.”

Lydia sighed and leaned back against the seat. “Don't jinx it. And be careful. Out of the Hales, you got the most broken one to deal with.”

* * *

Cora was on Lydia's doorstep when Stiles pulled up in front of her house, scowling at the ground in a classic Hale-brood.

Lydia sighed and stepped out of the jeep, leaning her head in to catch Stiles' eyes. “I'll phone you later, and then we are having a proper talk about your taste in men.”

Stiles pulled a face at her and she shut the door, watching him drive away and waiting until he turned a corner and the jeep was out of sight before stalking up to the door, and Cora.

“That's my brother you're talking about,” Cora said in lieu of a greeting.

Lydia glowered at her. “Do you really want to start?”

Cora held her hands up defensively, and Lydia pushed past her to open the door. And right there, in the hallway, her arms crossed sternly, was her mother.

“Mom!” Lydia exclaimed, her voice high with surprise. Cora snorted quietly behind her. “I didn't know you were home.”

Her mother raised an eyebrow. “Clearly not, Lydia. Please, invite your girlfriend inside. Don't be rude.”

Lydia nodded and bit her lip, turning to Cora. “Get in here,” she hissed quietly.

Cora widened her eyes in mock-innocence. “But, Lydia, we aren't dating.”

Lydia jabbed a finger in her chest. “Don't front with me,” she whispered angrily. “I'll sort it out, just get inside.”

Cora rolled her eyes and stepped inside, nodding politely to Lydia's mother and holding out a hand. “Cora Hale.”

Lydia mentally face-palmed, because when you introduce yourself to your girlfriend's mother, you should be  _humble_ , shy, not so confident. Not that Cora was her girlfriend.

Her mother shook Cora's hand, and the confidence (arrogance) that Cora exuded must've worked in her favour, because she was given a wide smile.

When her mother turned to Lydia, however, her expression was serious. “You shouldn't be sneaking around with a girl, who, might I add, was presumed _dead_ for six years, while I'm not at home.”

Lydia felt herself pale, because she had been meaning to talk to her mother about her bisexuality, but it slipped her mind whenever they interacted. She didn't think her mother was homophobic, but she'd been surprised by her parents before.

And then her mom grabbed Lydia's hand, and passed a key to her, the shape familiar to Lydia's palm. “So, feel free to take her to the lake house whenever you want.”

Lydia forced a smile on her face, having to force it because Cora was grinning smugly at her and Lydia hated smug people, and because she and Cora were  _not_ dating.

Lydia's mother frowned at her and then shrugged. “You girls have fun. It's not like you can get pregnant.” And then she disappeared in the direction of the kitchen, and Lydia was left to her mortification.

Cora burst out laughing, grabbing Lydia's hand and tugging her upstairs, and the sight of it made Lydia a little light-headed. Cora barely smiled, let alone _laughed_ , and while the Hale wasn't as stoic as her brother, Lydia never thought she'd see Cora so loose and carefree.

Lydia scowled at her, because when she agreed to the acquaintances-with-benefits, she believed she could handle it, but now the situation was out of her control, and Lydia had no idea what to do to fix it. Well, she had several, but none of them were ideal.

Lydia closed the door to her bedroom behind them and glared at Cora. “Stop laughing. This isn't funny.”

Cora raised her eyebrows. “It's a little funny.”

“No, it isn't. We need to stop.”

Cora's grin faded to a smirk. “Is that what you want?” she asked, taking a step towards Lydia.

Lydia swallowed and nodded. “Yes.”

Cora shook her head. “You're lying.” She stopped an inch away from Lydia, and forced Lydia to look up at her. “You don't want to stop this, Lydia. You want to go to the lake house with me. You want to go on dates and show me off and invite me to dinner. And,” she added, her eyes dark and she leaned closer, her lips brushing against Lydia's, “so do I.”

* * *

The thing was, some days they didn't even have sex. If Stiles was too tired from school or lacrosse, they'd sit on his bed and _watch movies_. Derek would visit the cemetery with him, to lay flowers on his mother's grave, on Allison's grave. And sometimes even the Hale's row (which was depressing, having a whole row in a cemetery dedicated to one family, all with the same death dates).

So yeah, Stiles knew that Derek was being ridiculous. Okay, he hoped. Stiles didn't understand why Derek wouldn't answer his phone call (just one, he didn't want to seem desperate). Even if Stiles _was_ just a friend-with-benefits, he thought he would deserve an explanation at least. Of why he wasn't more than that.

Stiles could hide the bad mood the situation put him in from people without supernatural senses, but the moment Scott saw him at school, his nostrils flared, and he got _that_ look in his face. The concerned Alpha look that he had perfected since Stiles' mother died, before he had even been bitten.

“What's wrong?” he asked Stiles, keeping his voice low.

“What? Nothing. Everything's fine, no problems, life is great.”

Scott narrowed his eyes. “Stiles...”

Stiles sighed. “Seriously, Scott, I'm fine.”

And Scott actually leaned in, took a shallow sniff of Stiles' neck, and frowned at him. “Was it Derek?”

“ _What?_ No, of course – _what?_ Where did you get that from, jeez, Scott, I barely know the guy.”

Scott rolled his eyes. “Stiles, I'm not an idiot. You smell like him, all the time. I didn't mention it because it was your business, and you were happy but – Stiles, what did he do?” Scott narrowed his eyes. “Did he hurt you?” Stiles swore his best friend's eyes flashed red for a moment.

“My feelings,” Stiles mumbled. “He hurt my feelings.”

Scott's expression turned solemn and determined. “I'll have the best friend talk with him.”

Stiles grinned. “What, the _you hurt him, I hurt you_ deal?”

Scott nodded. “I'm the Alpha now.”

They looked at each other a bit longer before bursting out laughing, and wow, Stiles was never so happy to have Scott as a best friend.

Scott clapped a hand on Stiles shoulder, which he'd been doing a lot more since becoming an Alpha, the light touches and “subtle” scent-marking. “And I kinda owe you one, for all those times I... I told you about Allison,” Scott said, his voice soft as he stuttered over her name, “so you can, you know, tell me all the dirty details of your sex life and I can try not to vomit.”

Stiles scrunched up his nose. “Scott, not everyone overshares like you. I'm good.”

“Thank god,” Scott breathed.

Stiles narrowed his eyes at his best friend. “On second thoughts, he does this really amazing thing with his tongue where he cu-”

Scott slapped a hand over Stiles' mouth and glared at him. Once he was sure Stiles wouldn't say anything else, he removed it and wiped his palm on his jeans. “So what did he do?”

Stiles shook his head and turned to his locker, searching through the disorganised mess for his chemistry textbook. “Nothing, really. I just got too attached, I guess.”

Scott snorted. “So he tried to tell you it was emotionless, self-serving sex? That's a load of bullshit.”

Stiles glared at him. “ _That's_ what we agreed on. It's my fault, I messed it all up.” He turned to walk to chemistry, Scott a step behind.

Scott reached out and turned Stiles around with a hand to his shoulder. “Stiles, buddy, you can't seriously believe that Derek Hale is just using you for sex?”

“Hey!” Stiles protested. “It's a mutual thing!”

Scott huffed, a look of such pure disappointment that it had Stiles squirming. “You're an idiot. Derek's an idiot. Jesus, you've been dancing around around each other for as long as I could smell the arousal and hormones pouring off you both.”

“I'm petitioning for a new best friend,” Stiles muttered.

“And he gives you these puppy-dog eyes and whenever you're near him he gets happy and metaphorical rainbows shine out of his ass, it's nauseating.”

Stiles shoves Scott's shoulder and pulls a face. “Poetic, Scott. You have a unique way with words. And this? This is all your fault. You had to get your skinny ass bitten by Peter, and your wolvlihood attracted Derek. I couldn't gone my whole life blissfully unaware of his presence in the world, Scott, thank you.”

* * *

“Stiles,” Lydia snapped, pulling him out of Mr Harris' class as soon as the bell rang. “I need to talk to you.”

Stiles stumbled on his feet and leaned against a locker to steady himself. “What?”

“Cora Hale is the most infuriating girl I have ever met!” Lydia glared at a lingering sophomore and she squeaked and darted off.

Stiles sighed. “What did she do?”

“She wants to date me! She thinks we're dating!” she fumed, turning her gaze to Scott, who was hovering and sending anxious looks to Stiles.

Stiles leaned forward. “Really? What did she say?”

“She made out like _I_ was the one who wanted it, and then she.... _distracted_ me.”

“How?” Scott choked out, his cheeks flushing a little bit and his eyes clouding over. Stiles and Lydia both rolled their eyes at him and turned back to each other.

Stiles' face had fallen. “So our problems are that one Hale doesn't want to date me, and one Hale _wants_ to date you.”

“Fucking Hales,” Scott supplied helpfully. Obviously he had been filled in on Stiles' extra-curricular activities, if he didn't already know.

“Yes, thanks Scotty. Why don't you just tell Cora you want out?”

Lydia sighed. “She does this really great thing with her tongue, where she-”

Stiles held his hand up. “No details, please,” he said, his face pained.

Scott cleared his throat awkwardly and nodded. “Why... uh, why don't you just go out with her, then?”

Lydia shot him a withering look. “ _Cora?_ The girl is one step away from sociopathic. She's so... impulsive. She charges into situations without thinking, it's maddening.”

Stiles had a thoughtful look on his face, and it scared Lydia, it really did. “I don't know Lydia... Maybe you should try it out. You guys kinda balance each other.” He shrugged. “Opposites attract.”

“What, like you and Derek balance each other?” Lydia shot back. “If... If Cora wants to go out with me, fine, I'll do it. But not until Derek gets his head out of his ass and takes you on a date.”

Stiles frowned at her. “There's no reason for us both to suffer, Lyds. That's not going to happen.”

Lydia waved a hand dismissively. “Too bad.”

She tossed her hair and spun away from the two boys, feeling better now that she had a plan.

* * *

Derek leaned against one of the columns in his loft, with his eyebrow raised, as Cora yelled at him.

“You're being stupid, Derek! I don't see Stilinski committing human sacrifice, so what the hell are you so afraid of?”

“Leave it alone, Cora,” Derek sighed.

Cora's eyes flashed yellow. “Lydia won't even speak to me, and it's your fault. We all see how you look at him, it's obvious to anyone with half a brain that you care for him. So, what?”

Derek uncrossed his arms and flashed his eyes back. “Stay out of it! You lost your booty-call, what makes you think I care about that?”

“Because _you_ lost _yours_.”

“Stiles isn't my booty-call.”

Cora grinned triumphantly. “Finally, he gets it! Stiles wasn't _just_ your booty-call, Der, and it's not unreasonable for him to expect to be treated like more than that. Get over your shit so I can live my life.” She spun around and walked off, and Derek heard her start up the Camaro that he had taken out of storage for her.

Yeah, Derek needed a few hours to think about what he'd just admitted to there.

* * *

Derek: (Received 19:47)  _We need to talk_

Stiles scowled at the phone and considered deleting the message.

He considered a lot of things today. He considered showing up at the loft and demanding Derek talk to him about whatever the fuck was going on in his mind. He didn't because it seemed like a delicate situation, really.

He considered phoning Cora and asking her how he was, but then realised she'd just laugh at him and hang up, or spit out death threats.

He considered taking Troye Walker's offer, because yeah, the hottest gay guy at Beacon Hills High since Danny Mahealani asked _him_ out on a date, after word got out that Stiles Stilinski was strictly into dick (thanks be to Malia for opening him up to the world of homosexuality, though he had suspected when Lydia kissed him and sparks _didn't_ fly). And then told himself that if Derek was going to continue to ignore him, Stiles wasn't going to wait forever. Troye's... nice.

He considered jerking off, until he remembered that for the past two years, Derek had been the star of his jerk-off fantasies (Look, he thought he was bisexual for the longest time, sue him if he should've gotten the gay memo sooner).

So he was stuck in front of his laptop, even though his father was at work and this was usually when Derek would climb through his window and they'd go at it like rabbits, his history essay half-completed and his phone glaring those four words out at him.

Derek: (Sent 19:58) _I don't know, we're pretty good at ignoring each other, maybe we should keep doing that_

Derek: (Received 20:01) _Don't be a dick. I'm coming over_

Derek: (Sent 20:02) _You're coming over whether I want you to or not, aren't you?_

Stiles flung his phone on his bed and sighed, because this was not how he wanted to spend his thursday night. They were usually spent having life-affirming sex, not getting dumped by a guy who insisted that they weren't even dating in the first place.

After a few minutes of brooding and glaring at the history essay he couldn't bring himself to finish, the door opened (because Derek was a caveman and he didn't use his manners. And he grunted, like, a lot).

Derek stood in the doorway, looking more than a little awkward, and Stiles forced himself to get the word _endearing_ out of his mind.

Stiles stood up and pulled his shirt off, letting it drop to the floor, while Derek frowned at him. His fingers undid the button on his jeans but before he could go for the zipper, Derek's hand grabbed his wrist and pulled it away. “Stiles.”

Stiles looked up innocently. “What?”

Derek huffed out a sigh. “We're not having sex.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes. “Then what are you doing here?”

Derek dragged a hand down his face, looking down at the ground for a brief moment before meeting Stiles' eyes. “You're not going to make this easy for me, are you?”

Stiles anger, which had been building up over the past few days, dissipated instantly at the vulnerability in Derek's tone. “Go ahead,” he told him softly, bending down to pick his shirt up and doing up his jeans. He sat back down on his chair, and Derek sat on the bed, facing him.

“I just... I do. I want to date you, Stiles. I want to... to take you out to dinner or something, I want to kiss you in public and meet your dad in circumstances that _don't_ involve being a murder suspect.”

Stiles blinked. “I want to hold your hand,” he confessed.

Derek nodded. “I can do that.”

“Movies?”

“You have a terrible taste in movies, Stiles.”

“Not true!” Stiles jabbed an accusatory finger in Derek's face. “You liked Resident Evil, don't even start.”

“Stiles?”

“Yeah?”

Derek smiled, a small, hesitant smile – and _thank you_ , heart, for betraying Stiles and skipping a beat in front of someone who was acutely aware of the effect he had on Stiles' body – and leaned forward slightly. “I'm sorry.”

Stiles shook his head with a smirk. “You need to woo your way into my heart, Hale. I expect _un_ burnt toast in the mornings, and roses, and chocolates, and you're shouting dinner at that fanc – mmmpphh!” Derek pressed against Stiles' body, following the movement of the chair until it banged up against Stiles' desk.

“Yes,” he murmured between kisses. “No roses.... You're not in... a fifties movie...”

Stiles made an annoyed noise and pulled back, and yeah, maybe he had to catch his breath. The sarcastic remark he was about to make died in his throat, at the sight of _Derek_. A few months ago, he never would've imagined having Derek in his bed, in his life, as his _boyfriend_. And, after everything that had happened, after him getting possessed and Allison dying, he figured that they both needed something good, and that Stiles was going to be a damn good boyfriend.

“Are you sure?”

Derek rolled his eyes and huffed out an impatient sigh. “ _Yes._ Just make sure you don't ritually sacrifice virgins.”

* * *

Cora wasn't going to wait around for her brother to grow half a brain, so she _may_ have waited outside the school for her.

Lydia spotted Cora and a scowl formed on her face straight away. Cora wasn't fazed on how much Lydia acted like she barely tolerated her, Stiles had told her stories of Lydia and Jackson's epic, antagonistic relationship, which had been strong enough to rescue Jackson from losing himself completely.

Okay, so maybe the whole thing started out as just sex, just a way to work off steam, get rid of tension. But the more Lydia pushed her away, the more Cora learnt about her. There was more to the girl than just pretty looks and competent vocal cords. And she refused to out up with Cora's shit, which was refreshing.

“What the hell are you doing here, Cora? Lurking around the school?”

Cora raised her eyebrows at Lydia. “It's not creepy if you're young enough to go to the school.”

Cora noticed the moment Lydia's curiosity won out over her bad mood. “Why don't you?”

Cora shrugged and walked with Lydia back to her car, their sides barely brushing. “Homeschooled by my last pack.”

Lydia shook off her thoughtful look and stopped, pulling Cora back by the arm. “What are you doing here, Cora?”

Cora gave her an easy smile and leaned against the side of Lydia's car. “I just wanted to see you.”

Lydia rolled her eyes. “Get off my car. People are beginning to stare.”

Cora scanned the crowds, a few girls tittering and whispering, pointing at Lydia. Which made sense, since Lydia was the most popular girl in the school, everyone wanted to know her business.

Cora raised an eyebrow. “Want to give them something to talk about?”

Lydia sighed and nudged Cora out of the way, unlocking her car and getting in. She tilted her head to the passenger seat. “Get in, then.”

Once Lydia had started up the car and pulled out, she started drumming her fingers on the steering wheel, almost nervously. “I don't want to date you, Cora.”

Cora grinned. “That was a lie.”

Lydia made a frustrated noise and shot a brief glare at Cora before turning back to the road. “I don't know _why_ I want to date you.”

“But you do want to date me.”

Lydia sighed and brushed a strand of strawberry blonde hair out of her face. “Yes. Don't let it get to your head.”

Cora shrugged. “So let me take you to dinner.”

Lydia shook her head. “I told you, not until Derek-”

“Lydia, Derek's issues have issues. We might have to wait _years_ for him to man up. And that's got nothing to do with us.”

“Get your hand off my thigh, Hale,” Lydia hissed, pulling up in front of her house. She turned around to face Cora, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, looking so beautiful when she was indecisive that Cora wanted to kiss her right there, but she knew Lydia wouldn't appreciate it.

“I'm studying with Kira and Malia tonight. You can take me to dinner tomorrow night.” She opened the car door and got out, leaning back in. “It better be somewhere fancy. I don't date cheap girls.” And then she tossed her hair and slammed the door shut, walking up to her house without looking back.

Cora allowed herself a smug smirk, and got out of the car. Once the door closed, the car locked, and Cora was left to her thoughts.

One of them being that yeah, she had never been on a date before.

* * *

“Will you calm down?” Stiles muttered, smoothing Derek's shirt and giving him a scowl. “You're getting on my nerves.”

Derek glared back at him. “He's going to shoot me. I _hate_ getting shot.”

Stiles frowned sympathetically. “I know you do. So I hid his gun before you got here. And his wolfsbane bullets. And his combat knife.” He gave Derek a wide smile. “So you'll get punched, at the most.”

“Stiles?” his father called out. “Bring her in.”

“ _Her?_ ” Derek echoed.

Stiles grimaced. “I may have not specified the gender of the person I'm dating. In my defense, he shouldn't be thinking so heteronormatively.”

“So you're going to come out to your dad with your werewolf boyfriend. Your _older_ werewolf boyfriend, who's been arrested _more than_ once.”

Stiles patted his chest. “You sound so judgemental when you're talking about yourself. ” He turned and walked into the house, Derek shutting the door behind him.

Yeah, maybe Stiles could've broken the news of his homosexuality in a separate occasion to introducing his father to Derek, but he was fairly confident that he wouldn't give his dad a heart attack. Unless he was sneaking pies at work again.

As soon as the sheriff looked up and saw Stiles and, behind Stiles, already looking apologetic, Derek, his eyebrows pulled together.

“You're... Not _Hale_.”

“Hey! That's my boyfriend you're talking about,” Stiles protested.

The sheriff shook his head and closed his eyes. “Kid, you better be yanking my chain.”

Stiles sucked in a breath and shook his head, widening his eyes in what he liked to call the Scott-McCall-puppy-eyes look that he had perfected.

Derek seemed to relax a tiny bit, which – no, you shouldn't relax, what if Stiles didn't find all of the guns? - and held out his hand for the sheriff to shake.

The sheriff shook it automatically. “So you're dating my son.”

“Yes, sir.” Stiles coughed away a laugh, because Derek Hale was ticking all the bad boy clichès.

His father's face darkened for half a second, and Stiles' thumbnail was getting chewed out by the anxiety, but then the sheriff grinned.

“You boys are the least discreet pair of hormonal teenagers I have ever met, and one of you isn't even a teenager.”

Stiles was aware that his mouth was gaping open in surprise, but he couldn't focus on closing it _and_ processing what his father had just said simultaneously.

“ _What_?” was what he came out with.

The sheriff shook his head. “I'm the _sheriff_ , Stiles. There isn't much that goes on in my town without me knowing.” At Stiles' look, he added, “ _Apart_ from werewolves.”

“And you... uh, you don't mind?”

The sheriff sighed. “If I tell you to _not_ have underage sex with your werewolf boyfriend, it's not like you'd listen. So I'm going to say this once and once only,” he said, fixing them both with a stern look. “Stiles' curfew is eleven on school nights. I don't want any details about what you two get up to. And for god's sake, don't do it here. Also, Derek, you're coming for dinner every saturday night.”

“Oh my _god_ you didn't get shot,” Stiles mumbled to Derek, who was staring, wide-eyed, at the sheriff.

Who sighed and dragged a hand down his face. “You're a good man, Derek. So you know that if you hurt my son in any way, I have wolfsbane bullets and I know how to hide a body.”

Stiles grinned. “ _There_ it is.”

* * *

Lydia glared at Stiles, whose grin wavered.

Cora growled around the spoon in her mouth.

Derek crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at his boyfriend.

Stiles sighed. “ _Fine_. No more double dates, jeez.” He stabbed at the melting icecream in his bowl and scowled at it, before looked across at Derek and tangling his ankles between Derek's. “How about, we all forget my monumentally bad idea, and I have hot sex with my boyfriend.”

Cora fake-gagged and Lydia tilted her head thoughtfully. Derek kicked Stiles' feet away and stood up, pulling Stiles up with him and dragging him away. “We get the loft,” he barked out before they disappeared out the door.

Cora slumped in her seat. “He sexiled me,” she said indignantly.

Lydia gave her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “If you would hurry up and get your own apartment, we wouldn't have this issue.”

“I caught them, Lydia. _Twice_. It was traumatising.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I hoped this made you laugh, at least a tiny bit, because that was this fic's intention. Leave me comments, dudes, I love hearing your thoughts on my works. And hey, you could check out my other fics. If you want. Just a suggestion :) I also sometimes rec fics on [my tumblr](http://unadulterated-exasperation.tumblr.com/) so hey, here's a link :D


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